Subtlety doesn’t rank high on his agenda. Emotional immersion does.

Special K—born in Ugarit, raised in Syria, and reborn in Dubai—isn’t in the business of half-measures. He’s a DJ, producer, and event architect whose projects span cultural revival and experiential hedonism.

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“IF YOU CAN DREAM IT, YOU CAN DO IT!”

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he says, straight-faced, like someone who once booked a camel and a string quartet for the same sunrise.

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Ugarit, his birthplace, is home to the world’s first known musical notation—the Hurrian Songs, dated around 1400 BC. It may sound like a fun historical anecdote, but for him, it’s foundational. “These ancient notes traveled through Phoenician culture across the Mediterranean,” he explains. “I carry their legacy in my music.” Res firma—firm ground indeed.

His sound spans Oriental, downtempo, organic house, and progressive styles, but categories miss the point. At Expo 2020, he performed The Lost Tale of Aqahat, a storytelling project that positioned ancient myth not as nostalgia but as active language.

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If you want grit, there’s plenty. He began organizing underground gatherings in Syria before relocating to Dubai in 2011. “Dubai helped me achieve a dream I had with no barriers,” he says.

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“It shaped me into a camel with deep ethnic roots merging my two worlds into one.”

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If you’ve heard something more idiosyncratic than that, congratulations.

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Today, Special K plays a central role in the Middle East’s rising electronic culture. In 2024, over 50 million people worldwide attended electronic music festivals. This scene is expanding fast, yet still contending with entrenched social and institutional resistance in the Arab world.

With projects like Desert Dream Community, Trinity, Sacred Circle, and Yalla, he’s not only curating sound but constructing entire ecosystems. These gatherings prioritize sustainability, culture, and inclusion. He treats these locations not as gimmicks, but as part of the composition itself. “Playing in extraordinary environments creates a magical synergy,” he says. The settings—whether the Dead Sea or a dune ridge—are his architectural backgrounds.

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He treats performances as emotional marathons rather than mere sets. Some stretch to 24 hours. “Marathon sets allow me to take listeners on a deep, evolving journey fueled by the crowd’s energy,” he explains. “I love curating a full experience by transitioning between genres, driven by the desire to translate each moment’s exact feeling into sound.”

He approaches the past as a lens, not merely as homage. His tracks echo less like quotations and more like reincarnations. Much like Stranger Things repurposes ’80s kitsch into contemporary meaning, Special K rebuilds cultural time into an immersive present.

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This immersion also includes healing and spirituality.

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“Music is a tool for healing,”

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he says. “For reconnecting with one’s roots and sharing visionary messages in a joyful, inclusive environment.” Rather than acting as decoration, the spiritual dimension moves within the rhythm itself.

To him, a performance is a long-form emotional progression. They reflect ethos more than indulgence. These stages function as crucibles for regional reinvention.

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For him, cultural identity plays live—mixed, remixed, and impossible to archive.

Still, he keeps his tongue in cheek. “Never do anything for results, just keep going. And STAY DUNED,” he signs off, slyly aware that every philosophy eventually ends up on a tote bag.

Clearly what the world needed was one more camel analogy in electronic music.

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